#Diwali pujan

[mannbhaavnii]

a very happy diwali people 🪔

[marmikmaharashtra]

https://marmikmaharashtra.com/best-wishes-to-all-the-people-on-lakshmi-pujan-and-diwali-padwa/

[rightnewshindi]

Diwali Muhurat; दिवाली पर दुकान, घर या ऑफिस में कब करें पूजा, यहां देखें शुभ मुहूर्तों की डिटेल

Diwali 2024 Muhurat Details: दिवाली हिंदुओं का सबसे प्रमुख त्योहार है। ये पर्व हर साल कार्तिक अमावस्या को मनाया जाता है। इस बार ये पर्व 31 अक्टूबर, गुरुवार को मनाया जाएगा। 31 अक्टूबर को अमावस्या तिथि शाम से शुरू होगी इसलिए लक्ष्मी पूजन के शुभ मुहूर्त भी शाम के बाद ही शुरू होंगे जो रात अंत तक रहेंगे। दिवाली पर घर-दुकान, ऑफिस आदि स्थानों पर लक्ष्मी पूजन के मुहूर्त अलग-अलग हैं। आगे नोट कीजिए दिवाली…

[lyricsolution-com]

Dhanteras 2024: When Is Dhanteras? Know Date, Shubh Muhurat And City-wise Timings Of Dhantrayodashi | Culture News

As the festival season approaches, Dhanteras 2024 marks the official beginning of Diwali celebrations, bringing a wave of hope, prosperity, and joy. Known as Dhantrayodashi, this sacred day honors wealth and health, observed by Hindus to seek blessings from deities such as Lord Kuber, the god of wealth, Lord Dhanvantari, the deity of health and Ayurveda, and Goddess Lakshmi. The tradition of…

[jeevanjali]

Diwali Puja 2024: दिवाली पर लक्ष्मी पूजा में शामिल करें ये चीजें, नोट कर लें पूजन सामग्रीDiwali Puja 2024: दिवाली का त्यौहार नवम्बर 1, 2024 को मनाया जाएगा। इस दिन सुख-समृद्धि के लिए देवी लक्ष्मी और भगवान गणेश की पूजा की जाती है।

[thefestivalwishes]

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Read More : Happy Laxmi Puja Wishes 2023 With Name

This act of personalization adds a deep layer of connection to the festival's wishes you are extending. In these curated pictures, every curve of the name and every hue in the image is a prayer for prosperity to grace the lives of the named individuals.

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[hum-suffer]

We'll see each other again (nevermind the chasm between us) 10

Amar has known Gauri since before they were even born. They shared the same blood, the same parents and the same womb. The nursemaids gossiped about their birth to this day, whispering about how close they are, how Bahu didn't stop crying until he was laid next to Gauri, how Gauri didn't breathe until she was next to Bahu.

They share a bond, profound— beyond anyone's understanding. He feels what she feels and knows it even before she has identified her emotions. He knows what she's thinking and he knows how it's all gonna end in her emotions bubbling. Gauri feels a lot and sometimes, she can't contain her emotions. He's there to hold her together when she cracks with all the untamed emotions inside her.

He's on an excursion, with Bhalla and Gauri, their guards trailing behind them at an unassuming distance. They're disguised, Bhalla having somehow convinced Maa to let him go out to see the Diwali market. She's angry, Amar can tell that even without being her twin.

Her jaw is set— as she's learnt from Amar himself. Her hair is pulled by in a style she rarely favours and he knows an amateur would assume that is a reason of her irritation but Amar knows his sister and knows something as trivial as that wouldn't even hold her attention beyond a couple of minutes. She's wearing an orange saree, complete with red highlights that match her alta— and he knows she hates this combination beyond relief, she's complained about the saree before.

(It was a gift from some lord, an attempt to win Maa's favour. Obviously, a failed attempt.)

"What is the matter with you?" Bhalla asks her finally, when Gauri has stayed silent for the whole of the excursion and is now still silent on the way back. He's easy to anger, but Bhalla has always had the tact of his father— he's never understood women.

(He was different when they were younger. Bhalla used to know everything that made Gauri happy and everything that made her furious. Amar feels an ache in his chest at losing that but he knows that Bhalla feels pressure to do the best among them as he's the eldest. He doesn't have time to tolerate tantrums, in uncle Bijjaldev's words, and he has a lot of responsibilities.

And anyways, who is ever guaranteed to be the same this day and the next? Time changes even the nature of mother earth, what is the nature of man in front of that?)

Amar won't claim to understand anyone he's never met, but he knows his sister to her very bones and soul. It's his one consistency and he's proud of it. I will understand her today and I will understand her when we're both old and frail, he thinks with pride and humility in the same amount. Thank you, Mahadev, for giving me a sister.

Gauri sighs loudly in irritation. "I am fine, Bhalla. Nothing is wrong."

Gauri has always been a good liar. To anyone but Amar and Bhalla. Sometimes, even Maa can't read her lies as well as the brothers do.

Bhalla obviously knows she's lying too. "Do not insult me with lies. Remain petulant if you must, but do not lie to me, Gauri."

Amar sees the minute wince Gauri suppresses and he wants to punch Bhalla for being so impatient with her. He reaches for her hand and gives her wrist a squeeze that is hopefully reassuring. She doesn't show any response to it.

"Gauri." He knows she'll listen to him and sometimes it breaks his heart to have such power over her. He wishes she didn't love him so wholly, he thinks of the day she will marry and move away to whatever place her husband would be in and his heart burns. He will never be able to live in a world where he's away from his sister. "Please, talk to us."

She side eyes Bhalla as she speaks,"Uncle Bijjaldev and his dearest friend, the Kulpurohit, want me to not join in on the Diwali's Lakshmi Pujan."

Amar sees the way Bhalla stiffens. "And why not?"

"Because it will be only a couple of days after I finish my periods," she says, uncaring of the narrowed looks she receives as people overhear her talking about periods to boys. "Apparently, I will be too impure."

Bhalla doesn't speak anything else but looks away at the main objective of the issue being her periods. Amar frowns. "That's absolutely ridiculous, there's nothing impure about you. There can never be anything impure about you!"

"Thank you!" She exclaims, "That's what I've been trying to tell them! Maa asked to meet me today to discuss the same thing and she is seriously considering banning me from the puja because she believes the Rajpurohit."

Amar hears Bhalla groan. "I understand why you're angry, Gauri, but seriously, who can go against the Rajpurohit?"

Something akin to dread trickles down his spine and Amar thinks and oh. No. No. No.

He thinks of Gauri, excluded from the puja and confined to her rooms. Gauri, alone, only with Bhairav and some guards to protect her. Gauri, who already has had an assassination attempt on her. Gauri, who could be killed so goddamn easily away from their eyes. Gauri, who could die. Cease to exist. Amar doesn't think he can imagine a world without her. His sister, half of his heart, his twin, dying. He can't think of the possibility, he can't. Gauri can't die. They can't serve his sister to the assassin on a silver platter, no.

Fuck their notion of made up impurity.

Amar will never lose his sister, not at any cost.

"You don't understand anything, Bhalla," she says heatedly,"Your presence in any ritual hasn't been brought to a question because of your bodily functions! And Rajpurohit is making this up, I know it, there's no way periods are impure, they're the reason people are born!"

"The religious texts do say that women should not get involved in activities during their...problem." Bhalla says, sounding so disinterested that Amar knows he's contradicting Gauri only to distract her from her anger and not because he actually believes the bullshit he's spouting.

Gauri's ears turn red in her anger. "I agree periods are inconvenient enough to be a problem, but saying the word won't make you faint, brother! And the religious texts say that because women need rest in their periods. Do you even know how much my legs, back, stomach and head are aching at this moment? Do you know how nauseous I felt after breakfast today? Do you know my whole body is aching right now and I have these irritating breakouts on my face? The texts say women should not perform stressful tasks, not that they mustn't perform any tasks of import. Yagnas and pujas are stressful because we have to sit in the same position for hours, and because women's bodies are more receptive to energies in their periods and hence also soak up any and all kinds of energies, especially in yagnas, which are literally based on positive and negative energy and enforcement."

"Breathe, you annoyance," Bhalla says, sighing heavily and pulling Gauri closer to hug her sideways. "I understand your perspective and I'm sorry for assuming anything otherwise. Now, do you want a piggyback ride as repayment?"

Gauri thinks about it for a moment but Amar knows she's going to say yes. She hesitates a lot in her path to happiness but she loves the beloved treatment she gets, being their only sister.

She nods finally and all three of them stop in sync. Amar instinctually knows Mama, Bhairavrath and Advaita, their guards, are instantly suspicious. Bhalla hunches down and Gauri hands Amar the money pouch she'd been carrying before hopping onto his back. Amar smiles at the two of them, their grins big and eyes filled with merriment as Gauri winds her dhoti clad legs around Bhalla's waist and laughs loudly, in Bhalla's ear.

"I will throw you off," Bhalla threatens her playfully. They all know he'd never hurt either of them.

He looks at Amar,"What's gotten into you now?"

Amar shakes his head, still thinking about his sister, dead in a room they used to share, blood staining her purple bedsheet.

From Bhalla's back, Gauri raises her eyebrows comically and despite not wanting to, Amar snorts. "Let's go before Mama tells us about how inappropriate behaviour this is."

He doesn't have to, Amar can feel all the questioning stares burning onto the three of them already.

Bhalla begins to speedwalk instantly and Amar chuckles. Gauri looks over her shoulder at Amar, who's a couple paces behind them.

'I love you.' He mouths to her.

'I love you more.' She mouths back, grinning.

He doesn't argue, he knows it's true. No one will ever love him like Gauri does. His heart gets heavier, the thought of parting from her in any way will kill him one day.

But he won't let her die, not as long as lives. As long as Amrendra Bahubali lives, so shall Gauraangi Devi.

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He finds Maa on a swing in the west wing of the palace. He knows she favours the spot, for it is silent and peaceful here. The moon looks wonderful and the stars shine so beautifully that he sometimes doesn't move from this very spot for hours.

"Am I allowed to intrude?" He asks playfully.

Maa turns back to him with a smile that brightens her face and beckons him forward. "Bahu, of course, come. Sit beside me, here." She moves to make space for him and slows the swing down to let him sit.

"Gauri was furious today," he says after a long silence. Maa hums. "Do you believe women in their periods are impure?"

Maa shakes her head. "Never, son. Women are part of Shakti, the reason for the universe, they cannot be impure unless it is in regards to their own karma. However, the council isn't made of men as understanding as you and Bhalla."

"But why are Gauri's periods known to them in the first place?" He asks, miffed at the break in the privacy of his sister,"She has her right to privacy and autonomy."

Maa nods regretfully. "That she does. But Gauri has excruciating periods, like your grandmother. She pretty much cannot do anything for at the very least the first two days of her periods. Her absence makes it obvious."

Amar purses his lips. He will find out the names of these over-interested councilmen later and have a talk with them about just what the hierarchy between the princess and the council is.

"You must let her come to the Puja, Maa. You know how much she likes Diwali. It's her favourite time of the year!"

Maa looks down at her lap, clearly saddened too. "And I want to. But people here are too orthodox and I don't want an unnecessary political fight to ensue with my daughter being at the centre of it. She's bright and mature, but I won't expose her to any kind of backlash, if I can help it."

Wonder fills Amar's heart. Here is Maa, thinking of never letting Gauri face backlash even if she is held as a culprit in Gauri's eyes. And there is Gauri, thinking of never letting Maa face backlash, even if she has to risk her life. Women love so deeply, he thinks, for a moment drowning in the sheer love they carry in their hearts.

But he knows what is the bigger necessity and he doesn't care about orthodox people, he cares to not leave his sister's life to fate and chance.

"Tell them, Maa, if they won't let my sister attend the puja, I won't be there either." His heart is beating wildly in his chest but he knows he will hold his ground. He will never compromise Gauri for anything.

Maa's eyes widen and he feels regret for a moment for causing her strife but it is soon replaced by his love for Gauri.

"Bahu, don't be stubborn. You don't know the things she will hear if she comes to the Puja. I cannot throw every person who slanders her in the dungeons, son and I won't have my daughter crying in Diwali."

"And I won't have my sister feeling ostracised in Diwali, Maa. If they don't want the daughter of their previous King, they won't get the son of their previous King. I mean no disrespect to you, Maa, but I will not leave my sister at any cost." Anxiety flutters in his chest.

(He remembers once choosing Maa about Gauri once, when they were being given separate rooms. He remembers Gauri crying and he acutely knows how unloved she must have felt. He's never going to let her feel so again. Even if there wasn't a threat hanging over her, Amar is never going to leave his sister to misery again. Never again.)

Maa sighs and she suddenly looks so tired, Amar wants to curl up beside her and offer her any comfort he can. But he holds his ground.

Maa shakes her head. A smile slowly blooms on her face. "You are your mother's son." She looks down again, before looking up at him,"You must also realise that I would never let my daughter be isolated from her own rights and family in any condition, Bahu."

"So, Gauri is allowed to attend the puja?"

Maa chuckles as if he said something endearingly amusing. "Yes, Bahu."

Realisation dawns on him.

"You deliberately took their side to see what I would respond with!" Maa shrugs, unashamed of her ploy. Amar shakes his head at her and laughs, throwing his arms around her. "Don't scare me like that again! I don't like fighting with you."

"It's a lesson, Bahu," she says, caressing his hair,"Your Maa or the world around you won't always be correct. But stand your ground. Stay with the truth. Do not ever stray from your duty." He nods dutifully.

When he's finally getting up to leave for his room, Amar looks back at Maa. "Don't worry, Maa. You can't throw everyone who slanders her into the dungeons. But I will cut the tongues of any man who badmouths my sister." Even my uncle. Especially Even the Rajpurohit.

Amar has a simple idea of life: Gauri before everything else.

If his uncle can't accept that truth, he will have to learn to live a bitter life.

Maa gives him a smile that he can't decipher beyond pride and he doesn't care to. He wishes her a good night and leaves, wanting to be the first one to tell Gauri the good news.

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An empty home is never fulfilling.

Bhairav has spent the past years trying to live the way his sister would have wanted him to but it's difficult to keep living when all the goodness of his life is dead.

He hates that he locks the door behind him when he leaves, but as soon as he's back on duty to the palace, all the thoughts of melancholy are locked away. He needs to be at his best if he's ever going to be good enough to protect the princess of Mahishamati and wallowing in unresolved grief really isn't the best way to go about doing that.

Yamuna, the guard who takes the night shift to guard the princess' door gives him a curt nod before leaving. He's given up trying to make conversation with the girl, he knows she doesn't like fruitless conversations.

It's almost an hour later that the princess steps out of the room, dressed in a saree as beautiful as the blue sky and her hair tied in a braid, resting on her shoulder, adorned with pearls.

"Bhairav." She greets him with a slight nod and a smile as they begin walking towards the east wing of the palace, where the princess and the princes have their lessons.

(And isn't that new? Who called him with a nickname last time? How many years has it been? He knows exactly how many years, even days, it's been since someone said his name so tenderly and with affection. The soldier that Katappa made him often peels back like a mask and all he can remember is the child who cursed how powerless he truly was.

"You are my protector and sword, thus, I will be your defender and shield. You shall face no stigma under my service. So I've sworn, and may Mahadev strike me dead if I stray from my oath."

The words echo in his ears and he feels the power thrumming through his veins.)

"My princess." He greets her back, forcing himself to be more alert as they pass the silent hallways. He's even more suspicious of people these days, since the day the princess has revealed that she thinks someone tried to assassinate her.

Katappa would have his head if he said it out loud, but Bhairav already has his suspicions on why anyone would want to kill the princess that is so obviously beloved by the general public.

Since swearing to be her sword, Bhairav has accompanied her to all the donations she has done, to all the temple visits (may they be at midnight), to all the blessings she has received from the common people. He has witnessed it all.

He walks behind her, knows she doesn't particularly like it but he also knows his limits. He's a servant, his place is behind his mistress.

She walks with the power of a Queen.

Bhairav can't help but lament the fact that Mahishamati isn't a Queendom. If it were, Gauraangi Devi would be the best thing that would happen for the state. It's a treacherous idea, but he has enough idea of the characters of this generation of royals to know how emotional Prince Bhallaldev is, how trusting Prince Bahubali is and how loving Princess Gauri is. She is the most immune option of them all.

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Most days, Bhairav can't even fathom the trust his princess shows in him.

They're sitting in a room, him, and the royal twins. Bahubali is undoubtedly displeased by his presence but has accepted it because he knows Bhairav will slit his own throat rather than betray his princess.

"I knew I'd heard of this Satyaveer somewhere," Bahubali said. "He served as a chamber servant to Uncle Bijjaldev, he was the one who was instructed to make my current room liveable when we first separated from the original room."

It's a controversial topic, as far as Bhairav is aware. Everyone knows the storm the princess kicked up when she felt that her bond with her brother was threatened. People often laugh about it, calling it a little girl's tantrum.

(But Bhairav knows how much he craves for such vehement demands. Because no one loves him enough to fight for him. No one knows him enough. No one wants him enough. Anyone who did is dead. Maa, Jijaji, Didi—

Dead.)

(How he wishes someone loved him. Loved him enough to fight for him. Demand for him.)

"If I may, your highness," he says, pulling himself out of his thoughts,"I followed Satyaveer on the days that my princess was ill. He seems to have an affinity for secret passages."

The Princess looks at him sharply. "Which secret passages, exactly, Bhairav?"

"The one beside the statue of Indra dev on the second floor of the west wing, my princess." He's noted down everything about this. He can't even think of failing his princess, she deserves the best to protect her and guard her and Bhairav will not break her trust by letting some cowardly bitch kill her.

The twins share a look. There's a set to the princess' jaw that foretells horror.

"That passage leads to the floor that has a royal suite, used by Uncle Bijjaldev and Maa and the room reserved for the Kulpurohit." Bahubali says. Bhairav narrows his eyes. Rajmata Shivagami Devi would never want the princess dead, that's beyond ridiculous. The woman loves the twins like her own children, she would never let anyone else harm them, let alone plan their assassination.

Oh.

The Princess sucks in a breath. Bahubali shakes his head,"That's ridiculous! Neither Maa nor Uncle would want you dead. The Kulpurohit..?"

The Princess purses her lips. "Uncle wants Bhalla to be the next King. The Kulpurohit has hated me since I first demanded an apology from him for not letting me enter the study rooms on my periods."

"Leave, Bhairavrath." Bahubali says. Bhairav looks at the princess for a moment and she nods at him.

He leaves the room immediately. It's treacherous to think so, but Bhairav thinks his suspicions are only proving correct.

Bijjaldev wanted to be the King but wasn't made one. He wants his blood on the throne. The Princess may not be a contender for the throne but she is the sole power of Bahubali. Without her, Bahubali won't have the same power. He will be loved and liked and adored, he will be courageous and daring and strong, but the power behind the throne won't be wholly his. He wouldn't be able to wield it to his full potential without her.

Hell, from what Bhairav has seen, without the princess, Bahubali would probably give up materialistic things in life. They're both too entangled in their bond to ever survive the death of the other.

Kill one, and the other will instantly be dead.

He keeps his thoughts to himself. Heads have rolled for less.

____________________________________________________

What do we think?????

Tagging: @vijayasena @alhad-si-simran @o-merebholebalam

[hezzabeth]

Revati stormed out into the hot, heavy darkness. Everything was quiet and still, the dead hair dryer was smoking. In the distance, someone was singing. Revati walked towards it, her feet stumbling over tree roots. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting next to a tree.

"I told you to wait at camp," Revati gently scolded him.

"I got bored! Are you ready to go? Mama hates it when I'm late for Apple day Dinner," Bridgadeiro taking her hand.

It was a new vibrant gesture.

One that for a long time Revati never dared wished for.

A gesture that began a few short months ago with a dance.

Bridgadeiro's eyes suddenly widened with surprise and he gasped. A thick plastic cord had sprung from the feel, wrapping itself around his neck.

Three hair dryers remained, and Revati had one more to confront.

"Will you please just let him go? I have a weapon," Revati addressed the darkness.

An older hair dryer appeared, its black cord attached to its base.

"You humans killed my husband, the least I can do is kill yours," the hair dryer said in a lady's voice. Strictly speaking, the appliances didn't actually need electric cords or genders, or spouses for that matter. For a species that despises humans, they did seem to copy them quite a bit.

"He's not my husband!" Revati pointed out. In truth, she wasn't sure what Bridgadeiro was. When she said goodbye to him four years ago at the end of an empty train ride, she was sure she'd never see him again. But then a week or so later, he appeared "just to check up on his tent." This happened quite often, no matter where Revati went. When he wasn't visiting, he sent messages to Revati's bangle, photos of random things he had spotted, such as a butterfly on a garbage bin, sincere questions about what she was up to. Every year, Revati put her foot down and insisted on traveling back to Olde Landon for Diwali, and every year for three years running, Bridgadeiro Bun was waiting at the gates.

One year he had actually, much to everyone's horror, brought the infamous ex-girlfriend, Margarine. She was a short and extraordinarily pretty girl with freckles and Snow White hair. Whenever she stood next to Bridgadeiro, she clung to his arm in a way that showed off her cleavage. They stayed for the entire two-week festival. Margarine kept exclaiming over how "adorable" everything was while also bragging about her family's "modern living orb." She insisted on sleeping with Bridgadeiro in the greenhouse but complained the next morning about how the soil bags hurt her back. It seemed like she was obsessed with getting every single resident's name wrong. Needless to say, everyone was happy when Bridgadeiro arrived alone the next year.

"Then you don't care if I kill him?" the hair dryer asked.

"Of course I care!" Revati protested. Last Diwali, during Lakshmi Pujan, Bridgadeiro had helped her walk up and down Baker Street, handing out firecrackers to all the residents.

"I can't believe you brought these all the way from your space station!" Revati remarked.

"Well, your Nanni said last year she missed being able to say goodbye to your ancestors properly," he said with a small shrug.

"You're far too helpful! Look at everything you've done," Revati remarked, gesturing about. The plants Bridgadeiro had grown on Baker Street were still thriving. Several of Dusk's students were picking winter berries.

"It's not that much, and it's the least I can do," he replied.

"You repaid me for saving your life a long time ago," Revati said, glancing toward him. They were standing so close together their hands were almost touching. When Revati turned her head toward him, she briefly felt one of his cotton candy curls brush against her cheek.

"Oh no, I do all these things because I like you," he replied. The space between them was very close. In the distance, Revati could hear the whoosh and bang of firecrackers.

Revati swung the mace with a practiced, perfect motion, slamming it into the hair dryer. The air filled with beautiful bright sunlight, and the hair dryer collapsed. Bridgadeiro fell to the ground, still gasping desperately.

"Did you... have to kill her?" Bridgadeiro gasped.

"She's an AI machine; they're probably uploading her brain into a new dishwasher as we speak," Revati reassured him.

There was a clanking sound, and the android appeared.

"Good evening, your majesty," Bridgadeiro wheezed.

"I thought you told your pet clown to wait at the tent," the android remarked coldly as Revati helped Bridgadeiro up.

"He got bored," Revati said as Bridgadeiro brushed down the front of his blue-checked shirt.

"No real harm done! Do you want to head back to the tent to get your luggage?" Bridgadeiro asked Revati, who nodded as something twisted in her stomach. Nerves.

In the year 3556, there were exactly four hundred and eighty-seven major religions across the solar system. There were the old classics such as Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. There were the meta religions such as the Lovecraftians who worshiped fictional kings in yellow. There were the cults that worshiped objects such as carrots and shoes. Then there were the historical figure faiths. The Church of Dollyhart. The Temple of Sweet Baby Elvis. One of the largest historical religions was, of course, "Goupism," or as Nanni called it, "That parasite cult."

As far as Revati could tell, Goupism centered around a beautiful lady who long ago stole hundreds of ideologies. Of course, "Goupers" didn't call it that. They called it "mindful integration."

Bridgadeiro wasn't a religious nut. He didn't force people to wear nothing but an assigned color. He also didn't spray people with "psychic vampire" spray. He did, however, have faith. Faith wasn't something Revati really encountered.

"So, this holiday you're taking me to is to celebrate the existence of apples?" Revati confirmed as they stumbled upwards in the dark.

"Apples, ridiculous! In my court, we only attend festivals that are at least a thousand years old," the android remarked, its eyes lighting the way.

"It's to celebrate both apples and the goddess's daughter. It's about how such a simple universal fruit can be used to fulfill so many needs," Bridgadeiro explained to the android.

"I do like apple juice and apple pie," Revati conceded.

"Not to mention apple cider," Bridgadeiro added.

Up ahead, Bridgadeiro's tent shimmered in the dark. When Revati first heard about Bridgadeiro's tent, she was expecting an all-terrain raincoat propped up on a stick. Instead, the tent was a massive blood-red bioluminescent mushroom. As they approached the tent, Bridgadeiro gently pushed aside some of the fungus, creating a small opening. Once they were inside, the fungus sealed behind them. The inside of the tent was filled with sinister red light. A light Revati had long ago gotten used to.

"You know in my court, we have a massive Chocovale festival! We create an entire palace using only the finest Neptunian cocoa," the android declared as Revati grabbed her luggage. Her luggage consisted of a battered backpack stuffed to the top.

"That's nice," Revati replied. It was best to act as polite and dull as possible whenever the android went on one of her "court" rants.

"Never settle for apples when you can have chocolate, my dear," the android replied, and Revati smacked the android with the side of her bag.

"I thought we agreed when I signed my working contract that you would stay out of my personal life!" Revati snapped back.

Four years ago, Revati had been nothing more than an unpaid sidekick. Three years ago, however, when it became obvious that Dityaa did not want to be found, Revati almost went home. Then the android started doing something extraordinary. The android started paying her. Paying her to follow along, changing parts, and polishing metal as they traveled from city to city. Paying her to fight off bandits who were trying to steal the android's eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she paid Revati just to listen. Revati didn't want to think about being a ghost haunting an android for money.

"We did, but your personal life is interfering with your work! We are so close to finding Perdita! Closer than we've ever been! And you're running off to pick apples with your beau," the android snapped.

Revati glared at the android before grabbing Bridagdeiro by shirt and defiantly kissing him.

"My holiday break started twenty minutes ago! If I want to pick apples, I will pick apples," Revati spat back after letting a shocked Bridgadeiro go.

"We don't actually pick the apples on apple day; we did that two weeks ago," Bridgadeiro remarked, touching his lips and looking stunned.

"Really, Revati? You can do so much better than this! Once I find Perdita, I can find you a spouse that rules an entire moon," the android sighed, and Revati folded her arms.

"Maternity droid, open up battery-saving mode," Revati said.

"Don't you dare!" The android shrieked.

"Enter sleep mode until the battery is fully charged," Revati said, and the android slowly made a clicking sound as it powered down.

"Her battery won't start charging until the sun rises, and then we'll have ten hours," Revati said, pulling a small eye dropper out of her pants pocket. Carefully, she squeezed a drop of liquid onto the tent's walls, and they exploded in a cloud of glittery spores. Revati put the eye dropper away and pulled out a small plastic box, using it to scoop up some of the spores.

Revati was going to reluctantly miss the rainforest; it was nice being able to go out at night without freezing to death.

"You kissed me," Bridgadeiro stammered as Revati put the box away.

"I kissed you to prove a point," Revati replied, holding up a hand.

"The last time you did that, you said it was never going to happen again," Bridgadeiro replied, gently grabbing her hand.

Revati stared at it briefly, remembering last Diwali, the fireworks crackling in the sky, Bridgadeiro's hair smelling like lemon and spices.

"Because of Margarine! You kept breaking up and getting back together with her so many times it gave me psychic whiplash," Revati said, snatching her hand away.

"And I told you that night it was done," Bridgadeiro said gently. It was that same gentle voice that so many fell in love with. Everyone adored Bridgadeiro, the way people loved marshmallows and pillows.

"And I told you I'm nobody's second choice," Revati said firmly before scanning the dark, trying to find the track that eventually led to the forest's main town.

The sort of people who loved Revati were the crazy ones who loved ghost peppers and hardback chairs.

"You're not second! I invited you to Apple day," Bridgadeiro said as Revati began to walk down the path, leaving the sleeping android behind.

"Let's just keep going! The town is an hour's walk away," Revati replied.

"Can I hold your hand? You might slip in the dark," Bridgadeiro replied.

"Fine," Revati conceded. In the buzzing insect darkness, someone watched them go.

[divinum-pacis]

Swaminarayan saints perform rituals during Chopda Pujan, a prayer ceremony dedicated to the blessing of account books, on the occasion of Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights, at the Swaminarayan temple in Ahmedabad, India, Thursday, Oct. 31, 2024. (AP Photo/Ajit Solanki)

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